


Tanabata

by Chowder, StrangerInAStrangeWorld



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:24:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2087031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chowder/pseuds/Chowder, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangerInAStrangeWorld/pseuds/StrangerInAStrangeWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Like a mirror, the lake's surface was smooth, unmarred by ripples. Unlike a mirror, it concealed instead of reflected."</p>
<p>Makoto has heard stories passed around the fishing docks of Lake Nanase, of beings with the wind at their beck and call, creatures with fox tails and human faces, people growing wings. He always wrote them off as heatstroke-induced ramblings. Enter spirits with entirely too much time on their hands, very human teenagers, and two Shinto shrine attendants tasked with cleaning up the whole mess. Suddenly his familiar vacation spot isn't so familiar anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Man from the Lake

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, Fox here with her first post on AO3! This story came about floating on a body of water, though the sea not the lake. Stranger had brought up a topic about personifications of places and then ideas were being bounced off the wall until a few stuck. The main one being Haru's undying love for water and the only way he could be truly one with water was if he WERE it. She actually hasn't really seen Free! yet (I'm working on it). 
> 
> \---
> 
> Greetings, faithful (hopefully!) readers, I'm your friendly coauthor, StrangerInAStrangeWorld. Though I'm not very familiar with Free!, as Fox said, I know enough to come up with AU ideas for it. Bear with us here-- my specialty is Bleach and I don't always succeed at restraining a certain coauthor's visions for the story (mostly Haru, because... Haru.) I'm shameless enough to plug my other Bleach fanfics, so check them out if you're implausibly a fan of both.

The Nanase River lent its name to the lake it had once fed. Cut off by a landslide several years back, the lake’s expansion had halted. Now a few brooks and springs kept the lake brimming with its famously tranquil waters. Like a mirror, the lake’s surface was smooth, unmarred by ripples. Unlike a mirror, it concealed instead of reflected.

Families visited Lake Nanase for its uncommonly calm, clear waters and its equally placid atmosphere. The spirits that visited the lake each summer would’ve argued a much more primal motive: magic.

June hung over the lake that year like a particularly thick, muggy blanket. Lake-dwellers unearthed long-forgotten fans, steeling themselves for the remaining months of summer. The drone of cicadas became the summer’s official anthem, harmonizing with incessantly complaining birds and backed by a chorus of grumbling vacationers.

Tachibana Makoto, an annual resident by the lake, had taken to bringing a beach chair to the pebble-strewn shore every day, its waters being one of the few ways to escape the heat. The breezes that played in his honey-brown hair provided scant relief. He caught sight of the familiar fishermen’s boats drifting out on the water like oversized water striders, their helmsmen working to haul in the day’s catch. All gave a small island in the middle of the lake a wide berth.

Makoto’s parents had taken him to that island several times in his childhood, though as he’d grown older they saw less and less need to pray for his safety at the shrine there. As time passed, residents had stopped going there altogether. People no longer spoke of taking a visit to the shrine for this daughter’s birthday, or praying for that full-grown son’s job interview. It was like the kami had ceased to exist.

Matsuoka Rin and his sister Gou still found the time to go, though. That wasn’t surprising, considering Gou had become the shrine maiden and Rin had inherited the position of chief—and only—priest from his father, long since passed. Makoto had been friends with Rin since childhood, being one of the only boys his age on the island. Now they were closer to acquaintances than close friends.

Idly, Makoto glanced up, finding to his dismay that clouds had begun to gather. Sky-covering, thunder-grey clouds, the kind that heralded summer storms. He cast a glance back to the boardwalk, debating whether to head in. The choice was made for him when the rain came down all at once, like a thousand tiny bullets. He ducked underneath the dock, leaving the beach chair to its storm-soaked fate. If he knew the weather around here as well as he thought he did, it would only be a short shower.

However, hours passed and Makoto was still huddled beneath the dock. The wood of his sanctuary was slick with rain, thunder drowned out by the slapping of the lake’s waves. Dusk had fallen and with it Makoto’s spirits. Even the fishermen had long since hauled their boats to shore. With the sort of luck he seemed to have that day, Makoto would get home after everyone had gone to bed. Or worse, when everyone was getting up the next morning. The storms of Lake Nanase were notoriously temperamental.

Makoto sighed, curling up on the least drenched rock. As the sound of the waves began to fade into the background, his eyes drifted shut. He dozed there for a while, content to listen to the pounding rain on the pier above. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Makoto knew he should brave the storm. A nice hot shower and a change of clothes would make up for the brief discomfort of being soaked to the skin. But the water was just so soothing…

The rain had stopped. Makoto’s eyes cracked open, met with the silver wash of moonlight over the lake. It was beautiful in a way that staring out from his bedroom’s window couldn’t measure up to, the way he usually saw the lake at night. Standing on the shore made it all the more immediate. He sat up, wincing at the protest of stiff muscles used to one position for far too long.

Something moved at the edge of his vision, something in the water. Makoto jerked, whirling towards it. A ghost? Or worse, a kappa?

A person, he saw as the dark figure rose from the water. But who would be crazy enough to swim at night, in the middle of a thunderstorm no less?

Moonlight spilled across the person’s form, revealing a man’s torso. His hair, plastered to his scalp, was so black it was nearly blue. The water clung to his lower half like hakama, seeming to wrap itself around his waist. Makoto stared incredulously as the man advanced and the water showed no signs of releasing its hold on him. At last the man’s bare feet met pebbles. The water clung to him for a step more before falling away, leaving a wrap behind, not hakama as he’d initially thought. The man turned, striding down the beach, away from Makoto. He walked like the water he’d come out of, fluid as the waves that lapped at the shore. Makoto’s gaze followed the man until he was out of sight, swallowed up by the misty night.

He stayed there beneath the dock, the man long gone, for a few more minutes before shaking himself. If he was already hallucinating random men, the cold rain had clearly given him hypothermia. He ducked out from under the dock, deciding at that moment to head home. A good night’s rest and some warmth would make him feel better and banish whatever spirits were giving him visions of strange men. Makoto slipped and slid over the rocks, back to the boardwalk.

Only Makoto’s mother was still up when he made it through the front door, puttering about and setting the kitchen in order. She greeted him in the vaguely worried way of mothers with sons out after curfew, but it was too late to make a deal out of it. Instead she let him off with a promise to tell his father tomorrow and a goodnight.

One shower and a change of clothes later, his head hit the pillow.

Makoto dreamed that night of strange men who wore water as though it were cloth.


	2. The Preparation for the Annual Lake Relay

When he had thinking to do, Makoto ended up wandering the pebbled beach, as if the answers could be found amongst the tiny rocks. It was a habit of sorts and he found that a walk soothed whatever nerves he’d worked up. The sigh of waves and the distant shouts of children playing were welcomed sounds. He found it far more calming than any music.

The rocks shifted beneath his wooden sandals as he paced back and forth. Something had been bothering Makoto lately, a thought niggling in the back of his mind. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get rid of it. He hadn’t the faintest idea of what it was though, which seemed to bother him more. Although something told him that what was bothering him had to do with the figure he had seen on that stormy night. That lithe man in the elegant wrap, draped over his thin hips like a second skin. Makoto had dreamt of him every night since. Every morning, he awoke with more questions than answers.

Makoto paused for a moment, pacing beginning to wear on him. He dropped into a crouch, content to gaze out at the shrine island. He squinted, trying to make out the dock that used to welcome boat after boat of pilgrims. Now the pier was falling apart, paint chipping and wood rotting. Makoto pitied the poor thing, but he couldn’t really do much about it.

He sighed and rose, dusting himself off and starting for home. Dusk had fallen, the last rays of the sun dipping behind the west mountain. He had promised Ren and Ran he would tell them a story before bed. Maybe one of the old ones, though he wasn’t sure why that had occurred to him. Probably that man again. He’d looked as if he’d stepped out of one of those tales.

Makoto smiled as a light summer breeze hit his face and he turned away from it, facing back toward the center of the lake one last time. He squinted, a figure in the distance catching his eye. They were sitting on the boardwalk, a crumbling path through the marshy island leading to the shrines. Bright red hair, tied up in a red ribbon, billowed in the wind and their hakama swayed gently, reminding Makoto of the person he’d seen the previous night. Familiar… but how?.

A bird squawking in the distance made Makoto jump, drawing his attention to the boulders piled as a buffer between the lake and shore. What had startled the bird, he didn’t know, for Makoto was alone. When he turned back to the island, the figure was gone, as though they’d only been a phantom.

[七夕] 

Matsuoka Gou and her brother Rin were different in many ways, and being good at sports was no exception when it came to the pair. While Rin excelled at any sport he tried, Gou seemed to lack in the athletic ability he had in abundance. This fact didn’t bother her—she was content to watch people compete instead. Consequently, she usually volunteered to be a judge in the annual swimming races held at Lake Nanase. Each year, swimmers would enter the relay and swim from the mainland dock to the one on Shrine Island.

This year broke the tradition. Gou had entered the miko profession to help out her kannushi brother. This year she had to help out during the event of the annual relay held before the festival. This year she would not be able to witness the splendor of topless men, rippling muscles gleaming with lake water. This year, in short, was just not her year.

“Would you quit pouting?” a voice called from behind her. “You knew this would happen eventually.”

She whirled. “Shut up, onii-chan,” Gou huffed, crossing her arms indignantly. “I’m totally allowed to sulk. Now I have to miss out on all the fun, staying here and training.” She recoiled at the word as if it were a bad smell, giving a visible shudder before righting herself.

“You think,” Rin growled, eyes locked on hers, “that I like being here? Swimming is what I do best. Instead I have to take care of the business oyaji left behind and with him gone and Tanabata arriving, they’ll-”

“Ok,” Gou interrupted, standing. “I get it.” She started back toward the shrine before pausing to look back at Rin. His gaze was trained on the beach of the mainland. Something in his expression was distant, lost in thought.

“I wonder,” Rin said, eyes glinting like a fox’s, reflecting the sunset-stained water, “if that guy’ll be back tonight. We’ve still got that score to settle.”

Gou opened her mouth, shutting it when she realized no good could come of voicing her thoughts. Odds are he would, but it was no use telling that to Rin. Instead she shook her head, chuckling. “Only you would hold a grudge after all these years.”

Rin turned to leave. “You keep an eye out for a while. Tell me if you spot anything.” With that he was gone.

Gou shook her head, hand on her hips as if disapproving of a child’s antics. “He never changes,” she muttered to herself. She took off toward the boardwalk, plopping down halfway between the shrine and the edge of the island when she reached it. The island, being out in the middle of a lake, had once been little more than a pile of lake muck and marsh grass. Wary of being swallowed by mud, long-ago shrine attendants had created a boardwalk leading from the now-rotting dock to the more solid part of the island where the shrines were. Gou had always loved coming here to see the sunset, watching its fiery light drop lower and lower beneath the horizon until finally an ink-and-silver night reigned.

[七夕] **  
**

Despite the heat and noise, people always seemed to flood the marketplace when the sun had reached its highest point and the cicadas’ drone was at its peak. People shouting about sales on fresh-caught fish and home-grown vegetables rang pleasantly in Makoto’s ears. To him they were the essential sounds of lake life.

“Onii-chan! Candy!” Ran tugged on his sleeve. Makoto smiled indulgently down at her.

“Yes, yes,” he chided, “just wait a little longer. Remember what kaa-san sent us here for?”

“Fish!” Ren called out excitedly, drifting away from his siblings.

“It was mackerel,” Ran corrected, always trying to one-up her twin.

Makoto chuckled warmly, pulling Ren back towards Ran and himself. “That’s right. So we’ll get what we came for and then if we have extra money, we’ll get some ice cream. How does that sound?” Shopping with Ren and Ran was always a treat. They listened to him well enough and made sure not to stray too far out of sight.

“Sign up for the Annual Relay race! Helpers and judges needed!”

Makoto stopped for a moment, his siblings running ahead to where he could see the fish stalls set up in front of the bait shop. The voice was a familiar one, friendly and as usual excited. Makoto dashed ahead to catch up to the twins, now chattering away with the fish vendor.

“Nitori!” he exclaimed, raising a hand in greeting to the small, silver-haired boy. “It’s been a while!”

“Ah, Tachibana-san!” Nitori put down the flyers he was holding to address the twins who were pointing at a choice piece of mackerel. “How have you been?” he asked, blue eyes briefly leaving Makoto as he wrapped the chosen fish neatly.

“I’m doing fine. I see you’re recruiting this year.” Makoto pointed to the pamphlets advertising the annual relay. “Isn’t that supposed to be Mikoshiba’s job?” He nodded over towards the younger Mikoshiba boy leaning against the pier, laughing at a joke Makoto couldn’t hear.

The Mikoshiba family had owned a small boat rental shop by the dock for as long as Makoto had known them. They were also entrusted with holding the Annual Lake Nanase Relay. Usually—though one year he’d broken a leg a week before—their eldest son Seijuurou competed. And without fail, his team would win. It was no secret that he was the best swimmer of all the lake residents.

Nitori sighed and picked up a pamphlet and handed it over to Makoto. “Usually,” he admitted, “but he came down with something at the last moment. I’m supposed to do it until he gets better..”

Makoto frowned, trying to remember. “He has a younger brother, doesn’t he? Wouldn’t the job just be passed onto him?”

“Momo-kun refuses to take the job,” Nitori explained, hurriedly turning to another customer coming up to have their fish wrapped. “And now I’m stuck with two jobs at once. But I promised I’d do it. After all, sooner or later I’m inheriting the shop. It’s better to have a favor cashed in with another dock worker, right?” He paused to smile widely, his eyes almost closed as they crinkled.

“Well, if you need any help at all,” Makoto said, “don’t hesitate to ask me.”

“Thank you… Oh, and Tachibana-san!” Nitori yelled as Makoto began to walk away, the twins probably already having dashed off to the ice cream shop. “Will you be participating in the relay this year?”

Makoto half-turned, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes. “I don’t know yet!” he called back, waving goodbye over his shoulder.

And that, for better or for worse, was the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Fox here with the second chapter of Tanabata! And this time with dialogue! Stranger says hi and that she told me to tell you she is "a bit busy with schoolwork to say much of anything." Yep. That is right. As of Wednesday, we will be going back to school so we will be updating less frequently. I'm practically crying already. And I can feel the stomach cramps getting ready to make their debut. 
> 
> Anyway, we hope you like this chapter for we have (tried to) put our all into it! It was so much fun doing the dialogue! Stranger and I had a bit of a quarrel over some stuff (like what to call people and how to word things, the usual) but we finally settled on something! 
> 
> The island is modeled after my grandfather's very small one. It's just a rundown shack, but the land layout in my head is the same. 
> 
> Throughout this story, you will see some Japanese words and stuff because hey, they're in Japan! So here's a translation in case you need it:
> 
> onii-chan ~ brother  
> kaa-san ~ mother  
> oyaji ~ formal way of saying father (Rin has said this in the anime)  
> kannushi ~ a person responsible to maintenance of a Shinto Shrine (male)  
> miko ~ shrine maiden who performs various tasks at a Shinto Shrine


	3. The Storm Brewing Over the Lake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fox back again and very sorry for the long wait! School has been on both of our minds a lot and we've had no time for this at all. I figured since we already had the first half of the chapter crapped out, we should just get the rest over and done with. Which is maybe why this chapter sucks? I don't know. Anyway, since break is almost upon us, I'm guessing we'll get something out during that time. I'll try to write in my free time as much as possible. Lately I've had a lot of inspiration for things! And it's almost my birthday too, so I'll get something (even if it isn't another chapter for this) out by then.  
> \--------  
> Stranger here! Or there, or wherever I'm supposed to be. Which is generally at school, these days. That and my obsession with a Bleach fanfiction I'm working on have dragged my attention away from this work. Should I apologize? Maybe. Will I? Nah. This chapter is our apology.

The night hung over the lake like that blanket stuffed at the back of every home's closet; thick, heavy, and vaguely uncomfortable. For lake-dwellers, it was entirely normal weather. Anyone else would start questioning why they'd vacationed here.

Matsuoka Rin, though a lake-dweller, was presently questioning why he lived here in the first place. The humidity plastered his red hair to his scalp, making him feel like he'd been in a sauna for the past twelve hours. His skin itched with the need for a bath. But hot water and decent soap weren't exactly plentiful on a small island, so he was stuck licking dried sweat off his lips and tugging irritably at his hakama. Gou had gone shoreside for the night, off visiting childhood friends or whatever. Rin had never paid attention to the humans before their all-but-exile to the island, but Gou seemed to have some sort of attachment to them. Stupid, gangly, hairless creatures, but it got her out of his hair.

He stalked out of the shrine, heading for the rotting docks. Rituals were done for the day and he wasn't in the mood for dinner tonight. The thin strip of beach surrounding the island was the only place he could think without Gou chattering away about preparations this and preparations that. All the talk of festivals and gatherings and noisy, smelly people on his island drove him up the wall. Gou didn't understand that sometimes, people just needed to be away from the hordes of people who had never heard the term 'personal space' in their life. She loved people, always had. Found their behavior interesting, even fun. She spent hours of her free time shoreside at the market, poring over clothes she could only dream of affording. Rin, on the other hand, couldn't care less. 

Rin sat on the more or less intact boards of the dock, kicking absently at the lake water. If he had his way, he'd be running through the marshes of the island right now. But that wasn't happening, not least because Gou would chew him out for being careless. People turned up at the most inconvenient times, whether to deliver the week's groceries or to mutter a prayer for some grandkid's entrance exams. His idiot sister seemed determined to continue the ruse that the siblings were nothing more than the shrine attendants they seemed to be. He snorted. The Matsuoka siblings were closer to the spirits they were supposed to deal with than the people coming to pray. But she was right; there was no need-

A wave of inordinately cold water swamped Rin. He spluttered, swiping ineffectually at his face. Had he been too hot before? Now he was freezing and wet on top of that. Gou was going to kill him if he didn't get the smell out before she returned. He spat out weeds and a wriggling something that might've been a fish. Out of the corner of water-blurred eyes, Rin caught sight of something moving. He rubbed at his eyes, not because he didn't believe what he saw, but instead to glare at the offending something.

The offending something stared impassively back, an emotion that might've been mirth shining in deep blue eyes.

"The fuck did you do that for?" Rin screeched, eyes glinting with irritation. 

"Because I wanted to," came the young man's typically monotone reply. 

Rin turned his gaze away, looking back out across the lake, trying to ignore the wet, cold hakama clinging to his skin. He clicked his tongue, grumbling. "Welcome back, Haru." 

The young man hummed, satisfied by the grumpy redhead's reaction. "It's good to be back." 

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, the shimmer of the lake drawing both their attention. 

Rin seethed for a second, gathering pissed-off thoughts into a coherent sentence. "Where the hell," he said slowly, "have you been?"

Haruka—better known as "Haru" in Rin's gruff tones—turned to look at him for a long moment, as though expecting something other than anger.

"Away," he replied, so distantly that a breeze might have carried the word to Rin's ears. "Busy." 

Rin's expression shuttered, anger beginning to boil just beneath the surface.  _Away._ He scoffed. The dumbass couldn't have gone far. Wouldn't have. He didn't have the power to. "We never finished what we started." 

"I know," Haruka said, his reply clipped.

"Why didn't you ever come back?" Rin growled. His white-knuckled grip on the dock's splintering wood tightened.

"I couldn't." 

Something snapped. Rin surged to his feet. "Like hell you couldn't!" 

Haruka said nothing. 

"You could have made time in your 'busy' schedule for five minutes of swimming!" His breath came fast and harsh, hot like the embers smoldering in his chest.

Haruka turned away, the wrap he was wearing rippling slightly with the movement as he walked the other way. Never could get a straight answer out of that damn idiot. 

"Hey!" Rin called. "We haven't finished talking yet! Get back here!" He started towards Haru, stopping as boards creaked ominously beneath his feet.

If Haruka had heard Rin's words, he still gave no indication, vanishing into the lake.

[七夕] 

Makoto froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. His chosen piece of salmon plopped unceremoniously back onto the plate. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The air, previously calm, was now charged with static. A storm coming, perhaps? Ever since he was small, Makoto had had an uncanny ability to predict the weather. But the feeling wasn't right. Something seemed . . . off. As though compelled by an unseen force, his gaze was drawn to the shore outside the window, a steady calm washing over him as the lake's waters shimmered under the dusky sky.

"Makoto?" 

He started, turning toward his mother. She blinked at him in the vaguely-confused way of all mothers whose children had just done something strange.

"Kaa-san?" Makoto blinked back. 

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked, leaning over the table in a way that implied she wanted to take his hand reassuringly.

"Just thinking," he replied. He smiled reassuringly at her when she raised an eyebrow.

The conversation drifted to other things, the topic dropped, and the Tachibana family went on with their meal, oblivious.

[七夕] 

Haruka sat on a rock facing the shore, feeling the push and pull of the waves deep in his chest as if it were his heartbeat. The seventh day of the seventh month was almost upon them and it showed. Old and new faces were reappearing, though as usual it was hard to tell who wore what face. Rin's had drawn into a scowling mask in the time he'd been gone.

But that, he reflected, was what happened when humans thought they were betrayed. Rin, though he might deny it, had more humanity to him than spirit in that respect. Emotion, to Haruka, was something far more private and distant, a muted voice to be considered but not followed. Maybe that was why so often his interactions with humans saw them walking away, expressions sour and steps quick. It wasn't that he didn't care, only that he saw no point in spewing a bunch of meaningless words with a thousand connotations.

Those interactions left him as exhausted as the humans, and he heaved his usual heavy sigh. 

Jumping off the rock, he waded into the water, his wrap melding with the surface. A school of minnows shimmered silver as they danced beneath his feet. Haruka's flashed smile was equally mercurial.

Turning back to the shore, the smile melted away. If his intuition was correct—and it was without fail—a storm was on its way. And not the good kind that sent electric thrills racing over his skin. No, this storm was bigger, would cause ripples Haruka couldn't wish away. The mainlanders wouldn't be the only ones affected this time.

But it wasn't Haruka's first encounter with trouble like this. He would find a way to weather the storm, just as the humans would set things in their order.


End file.
